Thea Harbou - Metropolis

"Yes."

"Is it rising fast or slowly?"

"Fast."

"My God, my God… I can't get the door loose! The machines are piled up on top of it like mountains! I must explode the ruins, Maria!"

"Very well." Maria's voice sounded as though she were smiling. "Meanwhile I can finish telling my story… "

Freder dashed away. He did not know where his feet should carry him. He thought vaguely of God… "Thy will be done… Deliver us from evil… For Thine is the..power… "

From the sooty black sky a frightful gleam, of the colour of spilt blood, fell upon the city, which appeared as a silhouette of tattered velvet in the painful scarcity of light. There was not a soul to be seen and yet the air throbbed under the unbearable knife-edge of shrieks of women from the vicinity of Yoshiwara, and, while the organ of the cathedral was shrilling and whistling, as though its mighty body were wounded unto death, the windows of the cathedral, lighted from within, began, phantomlike to glow.

Freder staggered along to the tower-house in which the heart of the great machine-city of Metropolis had lived, and which it had torn open from top to bottom, when racing itself to death, in the fever of the "12," so that the house now looked like a ripped open, gaping gate.

A lump of humanity was crawling about the ruins, seeming, from the sounds it emitted, to be nothing but a single curse, on two legs. The horror which lay over Metropolis was Paradise compared with the last, cruel destruction which the lump of humanity was invoking from the lowest and hottest of hells upon the city and its inhabitants.

He found something among the ruins, raised it to his face, recognised it and broke out into howls, similar to the howls of a kicked dog. He rubbed his sobbing mouth upon the little piece of steel.

"May the stinking plague gnaw you, you lice—! May you sit in muck up to your eyes—! May you swill gas instead of water and burst every day — for ten thousand years-over and over again—!"

"Grot!"

"Filth—!"

"Grot! — Thank God… Grot, come here!"

"Who's that—"

"I am Joh Fredersen's son—"

"Aaah — Hell and the devil — I wanted you—! Come here, you toad—! I must have you between my fists. I'd much rather have had your father, but you're a bit of him and better than nothing! Come along here, if you've got the guts. Ah — my lad, wouldn't I like to get hold of you! I'd like to smear you from top toe in mustard and eat you! D'you know what your father's done—?"

"Grot—!"

"Let me finish—! tell you! Do you know what he did—? He made me give up… he made me give up my machine… "

And once more the miserable howling of a kicked dog.

"My machine… my — my machine—! That devil up there! That God-damned devil!.. "

"Grot, listen to me—"

"I won't listen to anything!—"

"Grot, in the underground city, the water has broken in… "

Seconds of silence. Then — roars of laughter, and, on the heap of ruins, the dance of a four-legged lump, which kicked its stumps amid wild yells, clapping its hands the while.

"That's right—! Hallelujah Amen—!"

"Grot—!" Freder laid fast hold of the dancing lump and shook it so that its teeth rattled. "The water has flooded the city! The lights lie in ruins! The water has risen up the steps! And upon the door — upon the only door, there lie tons upon tons of trains which collided with each other there!"

"Let the rats drown—!"

"The children, Grot—!!"

Grot stood as if paralysed.

"A girl," continued Freder, clutching his hand into the man's shoulder, "a girl," he said sobbingly, bending his head as if to bury it in the man's breast, "a girl has tried to save the children and is now shut in with them and can't get out—"

Grot began to run. "We must explode the ruins, Grot!"

Grot stumbled, turned about and went on running, Freder behind him, closer than his shadow…

"… But Foxy Fox knew very well that Mr. Hedgehog would come to help him out of the trap, and he wasn't a bit frightened and waited quite cheerfully, although it was a good long time before Mr. Hedgehog — gallant Mr. Hedgehog came back… "

"Maria—!"

"Oh Christ… Freder?"

"Don't be startled, do you hear?"

"Freder, you're not in danger?"

No answer. Silence. A crackling sound. Then a childish voice:

"And did Mr. Hedgehog come, sister?"

"Yes—"

But the "yes" was drowned by the tearing of thousands of steel cables, the roar of tens of thousands of rocks which were hurled up to the dome of heaven, to burst the dome and to sink, to hurtle downwards, causing the earth to sway under their fall.

Supplementary crackling. Grey, leisurely clouds. Distant rumbling. And steps. Childish crying. And, up above, the door which was hauled upwards:

"Maria—!"

A blackened face bent downwards; filthy hands stretched out, gropingly.

"Maria—!" "Here I am, Freder!"

"I can hardly hear you… "

"Get the children out first, Freder… The wall's sinking… "

Grot came lumbering along and threw himself on the ground by Freder's side, clutching down into the pit from which the children were scrambling out, screaming. He grabbed the children by the hair, by the neck, by the head, and hauled them up, as one pulls up radishes. His eyes were popping out of his head with fear. He hurled the children over his body, so that they tumbled over, shrieking miserably. He cursed like a hundred devils. "Isn't that nearly all of them—?" He bawled down two names…

"Father, father—!" sobbed two little voices in the depths. "The devil take you, you couple of Jackanapes!", roared the man. He rummaged the children aside with his fists, as if he were shovelling rubbish on the dustheap. Then he gulped, snorted, clutched out, and had two children hanging around his neck, wet and shivering piteously, but alive — and their limbs stood more in danger of his fumbling fists than previously of the water and the tumbling stones.

With the children in both arms, Grot rolled over on his side. He sat up and planted the couple before him.

"You God-damned pair of ragamuffins!" he said, amidst sobs. He wiped the tears from his eyes. And sprang up, hurling the children aside, like two little hay-stooks. With the furious roar of a lion, he ran to the door, from the depths of which Maria was emerging, with closed eyes, supported by Freder's arm.

"You bloody—!" he howled out. He dragged Freder aside, shoved the girl back into the depths, slammed the trap-door to, and slung his entire weight upon it, drumming the rhythm of his laughter upon it with clenched fists.

A grim effort had kept Freder on his feet. Beside himself, he fell upon the maniac to tug him from the trap-door, fell over him and rolled with him, in furious embrace, among the ruins of the machines.

"Let me go, you dog, you mangy dog!" howled Gort, trying to bite at the angry fist which held him. "That woman murdered my machine — That damn woman led the rabble—!! That woman alone turned the lever to 12—! I saw it when they were trampling on me—! The woman can drown down there—! I'm going to kill that woman—!"

With marvellous tension of all his muscles Grot drew himself up and heaved himself, with a jerk, away from the raving man — with such infuriated strength that he, Grot, shot, describing a curve, amidst the children.

Cursing ardently, he gathered himself up again; but, though he was uninjured, he could not move a limb. He stuck, an impotent spoon, in a porridge of children, which adhered to his arms, legs and fists. No steel fetters could have condemned him so effectually to helplessness, as did the little cold, wet hands, which were defending her who had rescued them all. Yes, his own children were standing before him, pommelling angrily upon his clenched fists, unscared by the blot-shot eyes with which the giant glared at the dwarves, cudgelling him.